[Book.]

I sometimes think that crises are invented just to bring out what we fear ourselves to be. Sometimes that is the hero. I have also noticed that in times of great sadness or great happiness, we care not about the scenery. It is only when we are caught in a grinding repetition of days upon days, where we feel neither high nor low, that we desire the scenery to change. A disaster is one of the divine answers to this call: it is a (dramatic) change in scenery, and we didn’t even have to go anywhere to get it. I have another, related thought: Is the world going to kick me out, sometime soon? This should be interesting, because I always have wondered what is out there, beyond the solid things. It would be a change in scenery worthy of an angel’s travels. What would that make me?